


30

by Chokolatte (ChokolatteJedi)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Early Work, Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-01
Updated: 2004-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-21 21:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/Chokolatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of love poems</p>
            </blockquote>





	30

**Author's Note:**

> Original A/N: So this was another requirement for that intro to poetry class. A serries of sonnets as letters between two lovers. The last two poems are not sonnets, as one does not really deal with love and would not be in character and as the other is an epitath on a grave and a sonnet would be too long. I'm having issues with this because the first letter is litterally in the shape of a heart and I can't do that here. The last one was also on a cool little headstone and everything and again, I can't transfer it :( But other than that, enjoy!

My Dearest Daveth,

But oh! That you and I could weave ourselves  
Together like the wool of young pale lambs,  
Their wool as pale a plumage… doves have wings  
With lesser purity of sweet color.  
If I could weave us twixt my small fingers,  
As once I wove the wool of those two lambs.  
If only we could be as free as sheep,  
To frolic through those fields so green. As green  
As your emerald-like eyes, so clear like I  
Could read your very soul if I looked hard  
Enough, like I could see right through your eyes  
And see our love in all its sweet array.  
If only I could weave our lives upon  
My loom, as once I wove that whitest wool.

Lovingly yours, Eva

.

.

Dear Eva,

Ah! My dear, remember I well, dearest,  
Days spent lying, loving, living, longing.  
Just the sight of your eyes, bluest, you just  
Fill my head with wildest thoughts conflicting.  
Must I speak so crude and bluntly ‘fore you, dear?  
You defy all reas’ning telling me, “wait!”  
Voices I ignore for our ardor…  
Oh! My brain can’t keep to speed, delighted,  
Brimming within you and I, to over-  
Flow. The aqueducts ancient old Roma  
Boasted could not hold our… love, as mother  
Wolf could never contain her young. She moans,  
Her muzzle against the milky moon, ah!  
Crying out from silken eyes of blue.

yours, Daveth

.

.

Dearest Daveth,

My Dear, I wonder, please forgive me, but  
In your most recent note, in which you told  
Of Rome and said my eyes were blue, oh, but,  
My eyes are not a blue, but you said, gold,  
When we met ‘neath the trees you said to me  
My eyes were “pools of gold” you longed to sink  
Forever into, just as we would be,  
“We’d fall through love together, on the brink  
Of life, for all eternity I’m yours  
We’re one; we’d never be again apart,  
Ne’r find good rest through any other doors,  
Nor find such love in any other’s heart.”  
Or, so you said, but now, your rimes they slant  
Have you some other found, to me transplant?

Lovingly, Eva 

.

.

Foul Tempstress Eva,

Oh! No, I do swear, my love for you is  
Never-ending. I will always think of  
You with pleasure, for we once meant so much  
T’one another. Now, do you, forsake me?  
Do you dare to ask if I’ve been true?  
After all that I’ve done for you? You ask?  
I feel so betrayed, that you would think it  
So of me. My love for you was true, Eva,  
More like Eve, the way you’ve pulled me down with  
You, within your guilt! I won’t be your damn Adam!  
Tell your new pet lover, Daveth sends, best hopes  
With Eva, and he is welcome to you.  
With that, my dear, my most fondest farewell  
I’ll see you, Eva, some fine day, in hell.

Ever your servant, Daveth

.

.

To Master Daveth Grim,

My dear, sir, I believe you know my sort,  
Tristan, brother to fair Eva DiCart,  
Who was so recently your betrothed consort.

Perhaps, though, you may better recognize my name,  
As Sir Tristan, knight to his Majesty, King Massen the fourth,  
Under whose guidance I have come to great wealth and fame

For my prowess as a fighter are well renound.  
But you, to my family, have brought much shame.  
And for my sister, you, I will hound.

To be fair, I will give you a head start,  
But once caught up, I’ll pound you into the ground.  
That’s what you get, for breaking my sister’s heart.

Most graciously yours, Sir Tristan DiCart

.

.

RIP  
Daveth Grim

With that, dear sir Grim,  
Our fondest farewell  
Perhaps we’ll see you,  
Some fine day, in hell.


End file.
